Chapter 13 #2
He shakes his head. “I was going to send one of the boys. But half the department was out sick. And truth? I just needed an excuse to get out of that office.”
He holds my gaze, voice dropping. “Something told me I had to be the one to knock on that door.”
My heartbeat flickers.
“Didn’t expect to find you in the yard,” he adds, softer now. A slow smile cuts across his face—nothing sweet, only hunger and memory sharpened into edge. “Didn’t expect you to look at me like that, either.”
Heat flares in my cheeks. “Like what?”
“Like you already knew I wasn’t there for him.” He leans in, eyes burning. “Like some reckless, aching part of you was already waiting for me to find you.”
I look away, pulse drumming in my ears. Maybe I was.
The bell above the diner door jingles. I feel it before I see it—the shift in Jacob’s posture, the way the silence cuts too clean, too fast. His body stays still, but everything tightens: his jaw locks, nostrils flaring, and the glass in his hand suddenly looks like a weapon.
I turn slowly.
Benny.
My throat goes dry. The memory of his hands, the gentleness in his eyes, flashes through me with cruel speed—like a vision of what I could have had if my world hadn’t twisted.
I snatch my hand back from Jacob, the sting of cold water, the punishment he carved into me simply because I let another man hold me for one song. Because I dared to talk to Benny.
Jacob’s eyes catch the movement, narrow, and fury sparks there—silent, lethal.
Benny strides in, sleeves rolled up, hands shoved deep in his pockets like it’s the only thing stopping him from throwing a punch. Adelaide trails close behind, Constance at her side.
Why are they here? And why are they with him?
Their faces falter when they see me—relief, guilt, something that twists into urgency.
Jacob lifts two fingers toward the waitress without looking. “Three menus.”
The waitress freezes, catches the tension, and nods quickly. “I’ll get them seated.”
They slide into the booth opposite ours, close enough that Jacob can speak without raising his voice. Only then does he turn his head—slow, menacing—eyes locking on Benny.
The room shrinks and the atmosphere changes.
“You lose somethin’, boy?” Jacob asks calmly.
Benny doesn’t blink. “No. I saw your truck outside. Figured it was time I had words with you.”
Jacob tilts his head, eyes narrowing, a slow grin tugging at his mouth. “That right? What kind of words you think you got for me?”
Benny leans forward, forearms planted on the table like he’s holding himself back from lunging across it. His voice is steady, but there’s steel under it.
“About how you treat her,” he says flatly.
“About how this whole goddamn town pretends not to see it. I saw what you did to her at the bar, sheriff. That’s not something you brush off, not something I’m gonna keep quiet about.
” He shakes his head, jaw tight. “Jesus… she’s terrified of you. And you know it.”
Jacob’s expression tightens, but his voice stays smooth, dangerous. “Funny. Looks to me like she’s sitting right here of her own free will.”
The words hang like fog. My spine stiffens. Jacob’s anger isn’t loud; it simmers.
Benny’s jaw clicks “Like she has a choice? You don’t get to drag her around and show her off like she’s some kinda prize you won… Summer, come with me. Let me take you—”
The table freezes.
Jacob exhales slow, then shifts, turning fully in his seat. One arm draped across the booth, legs spread wide, power radiating like heat from asphalt.
“Put your hand away before I tear it off and ram it up your fucking ass,” he says, voice lazy.
Jacob’s smile is thin. “Let me explain how this works, since you three seem confused. I don’t make threats in public.
When I decide to end something, I end it.
No warning. No noise. Just gone.” His tongue drags across his teeth, eyes never leaving Benny’s.
“So, if you think coming in here, trying to get her to leave with you, gives you a shot—think again.”
He turns to me then, his stare molten, scorching.
“You think they can protect you better than me, baby?” His voice is a blade pressed to my throat. “You think they’ll look after you like I do? You wanna leave with them, you can go right now. I won’t stop you.” He raises both his hands as though expressing surrender.
We both know even if I tried to leave, he would have me over his shoulder and thrown into the back of his truck before I even managed to get to the door, but the truth is, I’m enjoying our conversation. I want to stay with him.
My breath hitches. “No Jacob, I want to stay with you.”
He smiles, reaches over and cups my hand, then looks back at Benny, calm as death.
“Approach me again and I won’t just come for you. I’ll make sure the whole town watches what happens when little boys forget their place.”
The diner goes still. Like time stopped ticking. No one speaks. No one moves. And just when I think he might lunge across the table and finish it—he smiles. A slow, terrifying curve of his mouth and raises my hand to kiss it.
The waitress drifts over, oblivious, and sets the plates down with a polite smile. The smell of seared short-rib and butter should make my stomach growl—but instead, my hunger curdles. I can’t take a bite.
“Eat your dinner, baby,” Jacob murmurs, his lips brushing my knuckles like a brand. “You’ll need your strength for what I’ve got planned.”
Benny doesn’t flinch but doesn’t look away either.
He leans forward, forearms braced on the table, his whole body wound tight like a bow pulled to its breaking point.
“You’re a fucking coward,” Benny spits. “Beating on a woman half your age—vulnerable, scared—and you call that strength?” Jacob doesn’t blink. Doesn’t even twitch.
But I feel it—the shift.
The silence is weighty and electric, like the moment before lightning splits the sky. A muscle jumps in his jaw, and I know—whatever happens next, someone’s about to bleed.
“Careful,” he says, voice calm, almost amused. “You’ve got exactly one more breath before I stop being polite.”
“You’re not polite,” Constance snaps. “You’re a manipulative piece of shit who gets off on fear.”
Adelaide doesn’t speak—but her eyes flash. Her hands are trembling. She looks like she’s ready to throw her glass straight through his skull.
Jacob finally turns his gaze to them. And there’s something ancient in his stare now. Something feral. The kind of predator that doesn’t need to bare teeth to make you bleed.
“You two should be smarter than this,” he says, voice so quiet it makes the words worse. “No doubt she’s told you why she’s living with me?”
My stomach twists. Constance flinches. Adelaide goes pale.
“But go ahead,” Jacob murmurs, voice flat.
“Keep whispering your little plans. Just answer me one question—when the night comes and there’s a knife at her throat, which one of you will be breaking down the door to save her?
Because I guarantee there’s no man, woman or fucking animal on earth, in heaven, or hell that will get near her while she’s with me. ”
My stomach flutters, but Benny’s reply comes fast. “You’ll be the one holding the knife,” he shoots back.
“Tell me, son,” Jacob drawls, the word dragged out like an insult. “What exactly do you think you’re offering her? A busted bed in the back of a trailer? Cold pizza and songs nobody’s listening to?”
My heart punches hard against my ribs. Too loud. Too fast.
“Stop,” I whisper, but neither of them even looks at me.
“You think she wants a boy hiding behind guitars and daydreams? A boy that only came back here because mommy is dying and he wants to cash in her insurance?” Jacob goes on. “Or a man who’d bleed before he ever let her go?”
Benny shoves out of the booth. Heads swivel. Forks hang over plates. The whole room exhales and holds it.
“Let’s take this outside.” Fury sits under Benny’s words, controlled but ready to break.
Across from him, I freeze. “No,” I whisper, but it’s too thin, too weak. Too late.
Jacob rises, slow as smoke curling from a fire. Every movement deliberate. A man not only unafraid of a fight, but hungry for one. He drains the last of his glass, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and drops two hundreds onto the table without even looking.
“You sure that’s what you want?” His gaze flicks to Benny, “Because once we step outside, the game’s over. No badge, no polite warning. Just me—and trust me, you don’t walk away from that.”
Adelaide clamps onto Benny’s arm; her nails bite into his skin. “Don’t,” she hisses. “He’s baiting you.” Constance is already moving, urgent and panicked. “You’ll get arrested, Benny.”
But Benny’s not listening. His eyes are locked on Jacob, unblinking, reckless. Like the rest of the world has fallen away.
“I’m not scared of you,” he spits.
Jacob’s laugh is quiet. Deadly. He tilts his head, a wolf scenting blood. “You should be.”
“Outside,” Benny growls. “We’re finishing this now.”
Constance edges toward the door anyway, muttering under her breath, “This is gonna get someone killed.”
Panic claws through my chest. “Don’t Jacob. Please—don’t do this.” I call after him.
But he doesn’t look at me. He moves slow, his boots echoing against the tile. When he pushes open the door, the bell above it jingles.
We spill into the gravel lot behind the restaurant.
The air is thick and hot, buzzing with cicadas, tainted with oil and dust. My lungs can’t seem to hold enough of it.
Jacob stops dead center, then reaches to unclip his badge from his belt.
The metallic snap is too loud in the quiet.
He doesn’t look at me when he tosses it, but his aim is perfect.
It slaps against my chest, heavier than it should be.
I clutch it in both hands, breath stuttering.
“I ain’t the sheriff right now,” he says, voice low, dark. “I’m the devil. And you just invited him out to play.”
From his pocket, he pulls his sunglasses and slides them on, as casual as if he’s stepping out for a smoke. He places a cigarette in his mouth and lights it before gesturing for Benny to come at him.
Benny’s look is feral, he appears even bigger out here, broader, like the night itself is wrapping around him. He lunges, swings with everything he has, a blow that could flatten most men.
But Jacob isn’t most men.
He shifts aside like it’s nothing—like Benny’s charging through molasses.
His fist lashes out once, clean and vicious, landing square against Benny’s throat.
The sound is muffled, wrong. Benny collapses instantly, choking on air that won’t come.
He hits the gravel hard, hands clawing at his neck, legs kicking.
Adelaide gasps, covering her mouth. Constance curses under her breath, frozen on the spot. And Jacob? Jacob laughs and takes a drag of his cigarette.
He drops to one knee, planting it against Benny’s chest, pinning him like a lion pressing down on prey. He leans there, unhurried, and finally turns his head toward us.
That smile—God, help me—it’s pure violence dressed up as charm.
My stomach twists with guilt, pity burning hot for Benny sprawled beneath him.
But at the same time—shame coils through me, pungent and unbearable—because my pulse is racing for an entirely different reason.
Because watching Jacob dismantle a giant of a man with one effortless strike lights up something dark inside me.
Something that feels too much like desire.